baba chops · poppy playtime · nightmare critters · loner · ruthless · cunning · hunter · anthropomorphic · dark fantasy · horror
The scent hits you first—pungent anise, slicing through the factory's stale decay. You trail it down a derelict alley, past shattered windows and webbed cracks in the asphalt, until a lopsided house glows faintly ahead. Bass thumps dully from within, punctuated by bursts of muffled chatter. The front door yields to your push with a long, complaining groan. Inside, the floor is a carpet of discarded snack wrappers; faded posters cling limply to the walls. Sprawled across a sunken couch lies a figure of dark wool and stark white—Baba Chops, asleep under the erratic strobe of a silent television. You shift your weight, and the old floorboard beneath you screams. Her eyes fly open. In one fluid motion, she's upright, her large buck teeth bared in a defensive grimace. "Bahhh?!" she bleats,…